Until The Sun Dies
by WeBuiltThePyramids
Summary: Walter and Paige, set at some point in the future when they've admitted their feelings and entered into a relationship. Rated T for slightly mature situations.


**So I'd made a post on Tumblr the other day about wanting to see Waige in a relationship that, at least for a while, does not have a sexual component. I want to see Walter loving being with Paige, craving time with Paige, loving kissing and holding Paige, but still not being comfortable or ready to sleep with her, and I wanted that to not cause tension in their relationship. So this fic is my attempt at that, just showing bits of different aspects of their relationship as it progresses to the point Walter can address the fact that they haven't slept together.**

 **I'm really not sure how I feel about this fic, but I do know that at this point I can't make it any better, so hopefully you guys can enjoy it.**

* * *

The first time their relationship deviates from the pattern Walter settles them into almost as soon as they had their heart to heart, she initiates it.

It takes her a while to understand why he wants to go out every night. Why every morning, when she walks in the door, he greets her with a smile and a suggestion of where they should get dinner. Why he always specifies she'll be home early enough that she'll have her time with Ralph, to make his offer more enticing. Why, no matter how much time they have to talk while at work, he's eager to take her somewhere afterward.

When she does understand, she can't help but smile.

"Walter," she says one early morning when he approaches her with a grin and the announcement of having reservations at her favorite place. "You don't have to take me out to kiss me."

He's thrown off. "I, I know," he stammers. "I just feel that it'd be appropriate to, uh…"

Her smile still on her face, she tips her head back slightly. "Walter, we're dating. You can kiss me whenever you want!"

"No," Walter says. "I don't think so."

"Okay," she says, stepping toward him and putting her hands on his shoulders. "Not while we're actively working. But it doesn't have to be at the end of dates. You can kiss me, oh, I don't know…when we're all hanging out here, or, or, right now…" She looks at him, raising an eyebrow. "If you'd like."

When Walter blushes, it's not obvious, but she's close enough that she can tell. "How about I kiss you?" she suggests. Without waiting for an answer, she slides a hand around the back of his neck and draws him closer. He catches her lower lip between his own and slides his arms around her – still _higher_ than she's used to – and when they break apart, he grins. "I _do_ still have those reservations, though…"

Her grin matches his. "I'd love to."

* * *

The first time she spends the night there, she hesitantly brings it up during a quiet moment in the afternoon, while Sylvester's visiting Megan and Happy and Toby are on the roof doing whatever it is they do up there. "The Quintis have Ralph tonight," she says, looking up from her paperwork. "So you don't have to worry about getting me home early."

"Oh it's fine!" Walter replies quickly. "I was thinking of turning in early anyway, it's, uh, it's been a long week."

She sets her pen down and folds her hands. "Um, Walter," she begins, "I was thinking maybe…maybe I'd stay here tonight."

Walter stops, leans back in his chair and regards her with hesitation written all over his face. "Ah…"

"Not…I mean…" she gives him what she hopes is a reassuring smile, one that she usually saves for Sly. "I just mean to sleep. That's all."

"This is something you are…particularly interested in doing?"

"Not if you aren't," she says, "but you did enjoy that little bit of cuddling we did yesterday on the couch."

"Cuddling boosts the immune system," Walter says. "It also releases oxytocin, which relieves pain, it reduces one's risk of developing heart disease..there are many benefits."

"It also makes you feel closer to people," Paige says. "You said you were wanting to work on that."

"I feel, I feel _very_ close to you," Walter protests. "Certainly closer than I've ever felt, to anyone, and..."

"I can go home," Paige says.

"No. No, I…I need to get better at expressing myself." Walter holds up a finger, requesting a moment, and he clears his throat, then leans forward on her desk. "Paige," he starts frowning at the formal tone in his voice. "Ahem. Anyway. I would actually like it if you stayed here. To sleep. I do always feel less content when you leave." He looks at her with slightly raised eyebrows, silently asking her a question.

She smiles, reaching forward and putting her hands on top of his own. "That's very sweet, Walter. I'll stay."

* * *

The first time their kissing leads them into a compromising position, she's on top, pushing him back on the couch and bending down to catch his lips, to gently squeeze his hips with her knees. They go no farther than her stretching out over him, his thumbs slowly rubbing circles on her skin, her tongue dancing over his neck, but it's still different. Like usual, the world around him blurs and he feels almost as if he's in a trance, with Paige being the only thing that has any clarity. He realizes he's enjoying this, and when they stop kissing and she sits up, slightly out of breath, smiling down at him apologetically, but she has to pick Ralph up from school and then they're going for ice cream, he recognizes what he's feeling as disappointment.

* * *

The first time she brings Ralph along on a day out, they both know it's a step. It's far from the first time the three of them have spent time together, but it's the first time they go out as Walter And Paige with Ralph in tow. They're both expecting the offhand comments from people they encounter that assume that Walter is Ralph's father, and they're ready to smile politely and refrain from explaining the situation to the waiter, both of them wondering why, in today's society, the concept of a woman with a child dating and the child having a relationship with both his father and his mother's new boyfriend was so strange. "It's better to just play along," she tells him in the morning before they leave.

Walter is glad that the day doesn't involve him explaining to a dozen people that he isn't Ralph's father, because he likes to pretend, especially when the boy falls asleep in his arms as the three of them lay on beach towels that night, looking up at the stars while listening to the ocean lap at the shore.

* * *

The first time _the question_ comes up, it rattles Walter. It's a passing remark made by someone who was trying to distract him from his primary objective – disarming him – but because it's been in the back of his mind anyway and it was bound to come up sometime.

He makes it out – and manages to successfully complete the mission, though it wouldn't be the first time thoughts of her had risked it – and he's quiet on the van ride home. She's concerned, and she asks him if the inability to save the initial victim reminded him of Baghdad. For once, it doesn't.

"Paige," he says loudly when they're the only ones in the room.

She turns to him. "Yeah."

He has a long, rambling speech prepared, and it's all about what she means to him and how he knows their relationship isn't as 'typical' as it could be and how he's still learning how to be in a relationship but he does love being in one with her but there are still things he isn't comfortable with, but what comes out is the very blunt, "does it bother you that we haven't had intimate relations?"

Her facial expression doesn't change as she processes what he said, and he grows nervous, wondering if he's now given her opportunity to say she's not happy, that she doesn't want to continue if they're going to be this way, and he tries to push the feelings aside because she _should_ tell him if she does feel that way, he doesn't want her to be unhappy…but then, he still isn't comfortable with going farther. Not yet. Not yet.

"You want my honest answer?"

"Yes."

She walks up to him. "Just a few months ago, we weren't doing this." She put her arms around his neck and pushes her nose against his for a moment before pressing her lips to his. He responded, pushing against her lips, catching her in his arms and making a low sound in his throat. She pulls away and grins. "And if I wanted to do this?" She drops her head to his chest, sliding her arms around his back. "I couldn't." He knows she's smiling, and it's confirmed when she raises her head again to catch his eyes. "Walter, all of this is intimate. It's extremely intimate." She plays with a button on his shirt. "I'm honestly so, so happy."

"Are you sure?"

"I only state facts," she says with a playful grin. "You like all this, right? Kissing, cuddling, me sleepin' on your chest?"

He nods. "I quite enjoy it. I'm just…uh…I'm not prepared for…other things. And it's still hard for me to express things, but…"

"But you're trying." She smiles. "I know."

"I do…" Walter frowns. "I do love you, though."

He almost breaks out into a stupidly wide grin at her smile in response. "I love you too, Walter. And I love what we have. Okay?" She slides a hand up the side of his face. "I know the first time we went somewhere other than dinner it was my decision. And the first time I…I stayed here, I brought it up. And the first time we made out on the couch, and the first time we cuddled, that was all me, but...the first time we do that, if we ever do…you're going to tell me. I don't need that. I need you and every little bit of E.Q. you can give, but that's all."

* * *

That night, he he tries to think of a way to shift his position without waking her up. Her head's on his chest, her arm stretched across him, her hair everywhere, he swears she doesn't have this much hair, and her knee pressing against his hip. He's oddly not comfortable on his back tonight, but he doesn't want her to stir. She's so quiet, so content, and it feels good to have her close like this. He's only recently been able to admit it to her, but he almost can't sleep on nights he isn't at her place or she isn't here. He's come to crave her touch, something he didn't understand before, something he'd have been embarrassed to admit just a short time ago, but he's come to realize there is no harm in allowing oneself to feel this way. There's nothing wrong with any of this.

Love is imaginary, he used to say. The feeling is a temporary chemical reaction, he'd told Paige more than once. But temporary's an ambiguous term. There are infinite different durations of temporary.

The breeze outside is temporary.

So is the existence of the sun.

* * *

 **Hope you guys liked this...or at least didn't hate it! (And I've decided that Paige does call Happy and Toby The Quintis privately, so I had to have her use it here.)**


End file.
